Robbery
by Ceibrielle
Summary: Allistor did *not* expect to end up robbing the same house as someone else.


**I thought I'd treat myself by writing something for my rare-pair!**

**Enjoy! I do not own Hetalia!**

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It was approximately quarter past three in the morning when Allistor Kirkland eased open the window to the target house and stepped inside. The owner of the house had co-operatively left it open with a tiny crack and according to his sources, was out for at least a week. It wasn't that he was particularly lacking in anything; the thrill of breaking in and entering was one he had enjoyed very much over the past few years and had developed into a sort of high. And besides, he usually ended up getting free items out of it, so what not to love?

Although, as he moved through the darkness, walking into various pieces of furniture in process, he heard a gentle thump as something fell onto the ground and the gentle cursing as someone bend down to retrieve it.

_"Merde,"_ the voice said.

Allistor froze. Whoever, it was, they were interfering with his plans for the evening and he internally fumed. _Stupid owner probably employed a housekeeper._ The best plan of action was to retreat and so he reluctantly made his way out of the room and towards the window he had managed to edge open.

There was a rustle of fabric, a sigh of what sounded like relief and a click as whoever it was turned on their torch. Both of them froze. Despite the situation, Allistor was willing to admit that the other was extremely good looking. He'd always sort of had a thing for guys with blond hair and stubble. But Allistor could pick out more important details, such as the fact that the other was dressed in complete black and was looking extremely guilty. This wasn't a housekeeper; this was another person who'd decided to break into the same house.

"Oi, get your own house," he whispered harshly.

"_Mon cher_," the other said (Allistor couldn't quite place the accent - French perhaps?). "I assure you that I was here first and if anything, you should be the one to leave me in peace."

The Scotsman tsked impatiently and turned his attention to the pile of video games lying next to the Playstation. Before, he could even examine them closely, they'd been swept up and loaded into a bag.

"Hey! I was looking at those!" he protested, hand closing around the other's wrist.

"Well, maybe you should have looked faster."

They glared at each other for a while before Allistor made a grab for the bag and wrenched it out of the other's grip. The Frenchman growled.

"Look, _mon petit lapin_, you may have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen but that does not mean that I will allow you to take what is rightfully mine."

Allistor blushed heavily, thankful that it was dark and the torch was pointing away from his face.

"Correction. I've targeted this house for over a week now. There is no way that the prize -" he shook the bag and the contents rattled - "Belongs to you. So why don't you shove off, you bloody _frog_."

The blond glared.

"Caterpillar brows."

"Bearded baguette face."

"_Chou-tête_."

Whatever that was, it sounded _rude_.

They inched closer towards each other, whispering insults at each other.

_His lips look really soft_, Allistor thought suddenly and mentally slapped himself. They continued to glare at each other, although instead of the previous rivalry, there was an element of admiration and shyness for each other. And if they leaned in just a little closer...

"I hope you step on a Lego," Allistor growled and the blond turned away with an annoyed look on his face. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best idea to say that to someone who was robbing the same house and therefore also relying on stealth. He could only watch as the other stepped on something, and his face contorted with pain. It was a Lego. And as the Frenchman fell to the ground in pain, he triggered the burglar alarm. Forget being sneaky, their cover had just been blown.

"YOU FUCKING GIT ARE YOU AN IDIOT OR AN IDIOT?! WHO ROBS A HOUSE WITHOUT SHOES?!"

The other seemed to have recovered by this point and was pushing himself off the ground.

"I'M SORRY, BUT DO YOU SEE THE CARPET?! IT'S CLEAN. IT'S BEAUTIFUL. YOU'D HAVE TO BE A BARBARIAN TO WEAR SHOES HERE."

"YOU'RE ROBBING THE BLOODY HOUSE NOT CLEANING IT."

Bickering and shouting, they clambered towards the window and fought each other in their attempt to get out quickly. They could already hear the police sirens in the distant and the neighbours had woken up.

They watched the police enter the house from a few hundred metres away and by the time they'd left, it was nearing four in the morning. The Frenchman sighed.

"Well, _mon cher_, it's been fun, but I really must catch up on my beauty sleep."

Allistor rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You still look like a trashcan to me."

"But a very attractive one, _non_?" The blond winked at him laughing as the other blushed and stuttered over his words. "Francis Bonnefoy. Maybe we could work together next time instead of such an unfortunate incident happening?"

"Not a chance in hell, frog face," he said; but it was with a smile and a number scrunched up in his hand that he left the crime scene.


End file.
